Shoehorned Into A Tourist Brochure

Summer. The Muskoka Resort Experience. It's one way to smooth down those big city jitters, shoehorned into a tourist brochure. Ahh, the good life. The satisfaction rating is 90%. I know from friends who work in the industry. The other 10% gripe all the time about everything, usually to get an upgrade, a discount or a freebie. Mind you an oasis of grass in the woods, does depend on its own infrastructure, and is subject to things like storms that knock out power, so no TV, no Internet, even cell phones can go dead. Water can start to gurgle out of your tap and go rusty brown, cold and brown and trickle to a stop. Toilets don't flush. The local fauna can also intrude. A strange animal in the night scratching your window, a creepy nerve wracking growl, a friendly mouse scurrying over your bed, and especially in spring, wasps, mosquitoes, blackflys and noseeums can find their way in. Even with all that, spring is as busy as summer, and if you don't have a reservation, you could spend all night and all day looking for another place. Accommodations vary greatly. In keeping with the cottage theme, you can get bungalows masquerading as double cottages, or strips of motel units dolled up like the royal stables, or in the better spots a real cottage of your own, or at the lower end a corner of a 4-plex cottage or maybe a cottage suite with Muskoka room they didn't explain, wasn't cottagey, except for the Muskoka room, and not in the woods but in the reception center, the actual hotel part. All this can be forgiven once you're there, especially if they give you an upgrade, a discount (very rare, so don't make a scene) or a freebie. Another thing that can knock your socks off is the high end pricing for everything extra, whether it's orange juice and a bag of chips at the tuck shop, or of course the restaurant, where you can't say no thanks to the prices. Beware the ruinous game of golf at their club, usually somewhat discounted since you're a guest. And there are rules. If you've rented a powerboat, your resort might not let you dock it. They're noisy after all. If you're thinking of dropping in on another resort down on the same lake say, well their guests come first, so wait in line or don't bother because they're very exclusive. Even with blazer and captain's cap and your yacht in tow many won't let you dock for lunch. If you're driving it's not going to help unless you squeeze a reservation out of them on the phone first. The smart thing to do is, if you're in the lurch, tip big. The fun thing I'd say would be to hang out at two resorts and golf courses, so split your party and put your friends in the other one so you can pull off the guest of a (temporary) member.

What A Nifty Gift Shop

Summer. Port Sandfield Marina, what a nifty gift shop. The big marina too, has such a glossy feel to it, dozens of fabulous yachts and cruisers you could buy or rent. Fell in love right here with this classic beauty. And she's got a sister berthed beside her. Reminds me of the way I used to feel about cars. Reminds me too of the glamorous days of old Muskoka. A lot of the action then was at the grand hotels. Like those left at Cape May, New Jersey. They vanished in fire, one by one, in the lonely off season. If you're up at Pointe au Baril Station, one of the last, the Ojibway Hotel, built by a timber baron in 1906, survives as a cottagers' clubhouse. If the grand hotels disappeared like lovely Victorian ladies in the fog, the big resort operators mushroomed in with their golf courses, spas and pools. Not exactly native ecofriendly tourism, more like vacation theme parks, without the Muskoka flavor. Pools in Muskoka when you've got a thousand lakes? You could be in Beverly Hills, or as the NY Times calls it, Malibu of the North, which is nice enough.

The Perfect Cottage Vacation

Summer. 30,000 Islands. The Craganmor Point Resort on McLaren Island, between Parry Island and The Massasauga Provincial Park and its islands. For the genuine cottage experience, this is it, cozy and quaint. The resort side of it is you will have all you need for your stay, like at the biguns, but at a moderate price, with traditional creaking floorboards and a wonderful private sandy beach. Don't worry, you won't have to chop wood to feed your Elmira Stove, like cottagers used to do. At $650 and up for a small bungalow per week, it's a really good deal for a family vacation. Locals without cottages would like it here. But with money tight in small towns, locals think twice about a summertime splurge. Save for a boat instead or take a last minute package deal down south when the water turns to ice and the place is buried in snow. But cottage colonies like the Craganmor are always full and there are hundreds of them on the lakes and coastal islands of Georgian Bay. You'll never hear about most of them though, no websites, no advertising, no guidebooks to them. Drive or sail or ask around, get lucky with a vacancy or book for next year. It's the next best thing to owning one. If you're thinking of buying a cottage get your feet wet renting a cottage here and there first. Cottage fever can cost you plenty. People at a fantasy resort who'd spend $5 or $10 million for that one across the lake, will get a better idea of what to expect where they are, after their $150 tab for lunch.